


Last Moments

by booksarenotboringyouare



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Friendship, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 00:06:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksarenotboringyouare/pseuds/booksarenotboringyouare
Summary: Soulmates.It’s a simple word, with a simple definition.‘Two people who are connected to each other, who’s souls are bonded for life.’Of course, nothing in this world is ever so simple, and nothing ever so kind.-Grantaire had no soulmate.





	Last Moments

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mixture of the Brick, the Musical and the Movie. Please please please review! :)

Soulmates.

It’s a simple word, with a simple definition.

‘Two people who are connected to each other, who’s souls are bonded for life.’  
Of course, nothing in this world is ever so simple, and nothing ever so kind.

-

There are twists and exceptions to everything in life, no law or rule or norm is ever black and white, and none are ever predictable. Such is the fragile nature of a soulmate. For although two people are connected by a force that exceeds logical explanation, there are times when the very definition of a soulmate is thwarted, for better or for worse.

But how do soulmates find each other? It is not as simple as locking eyes and immediately knowing, (though many would prefer if it was). The only way to identify your soulmate is if they utter a certain word or sentence to you, a few words which impact your life in the most powerful way.

For many couples, it is the first ‘I love you’ spoken in a relationship. Whether spoken loud or soft, tentative or desperately, lovingly or pained, this simple phrase is what usually unites two souls.

However, as aforementioned, not everything is always so simple.

-

Enjolras had always regarded soulmates with indifference. While yes, he thought it was a beautiful thing to see two people linked with love rather than divided by hatred, it was a distraction from other things of larger import.

Even he however, was not immune to the mysterious workings of the universe, as evident by the swirling calligraphy on his wrist, which both infuriated his mind and piqued his interest.

“Permets-tu?”

Do you permit it? It was a curious phrase, and excited Jehan to no end, the poet becoming enthralled with it since he caught sight of it accidently one day.

“A romantic one surely, my friend.”, He would smile. “Although unexpected considering your busy lifestyle, whenever was the last time you so much as payed the theatre a visit?”

“The theatre is not where my interests lie, as you know, and even so I have no intention of seeking out the soul in question. My duty and attention belong elsewhere.”

-

Grantaire had no soulmate.

Bluntness is the only way to speak about it, for what else is there to say? While his friends all carried marks, his skin remained barren, his soul connected only to the bottle in his hand and city cobblestones under his feet.

But do not confuse lack of soul mark for lack of love. Grantaire’s happiest moments were the ones spent with his friends in the candle lit room tucked away in the Musain. His soul, although somewhat lonely, was not abandoned.

He even liked hearing of other’s soulmates, and it amused him to no end when Marius showed up one day raving about the magical girl who whispered the words “Be quiet, you know I do!” in response to his query about her love through the ivy-covered gates of her house late one night.

Again, he expressed his happiness when Joly revealed that the words, “Endearing, not annoying.” Were uttered not only by Bousset but also by Muischetta, once again proving that the definition of soulmates can be changed.

Although he was suitably happy for his friend’s love, he could not help the over-powering feeling of bitterness which crept up his spine. Why can some people have two soulmates, yet he has none? How can Marius Pontmercy of all people, unite with his love with only the second sentence she ever said to him?

Life never was nor ever will be simple and kind, and he had come to terms with that.

-

The barricade was bloody.

Enjolras had always been willing to die for his beliefs, and the thought of fleeing never once crossed his mind. Yet he was still afraid and horrified by the events so far.

Jehan and Bahoral had expired early, their deaths hit as hard as any bullet. He had a vague memory of a girl covered in blood and rainfall, cradled by Marius amongst the din of death. He was certain that the girl had died, and quickly glancing around, was almost certain that Marius had accompanied her, as the boy was nowhere to be seen. The unmoving body of Gavroche flashed in front of his eyes, and he shuddered as he remembered the gamin’s final moments.

“I fell from the air,  
That’s the fault of Voltaire  
Nose in the gutter, though,  
That’s the fault of – “ 

Courfeyrac’s sobs still rang through his ears, and the burning image of him huddled over Gavroche’s body will haunt him until the end of his life, which, Enjolras thought hysterically, would come about soon enough.

He could hear the footsteps of the approaching officers, and he only had time for one last glance out the window before they would be upon him.

He nearly regrets looking.

He can see the bodies of Bousset and Joly on either side of the barricade, two soulmates ripped apart in their final moments. Feuilly, the working man, the kind yet strong-willed citizen, lay face down atop another corpse, who to his immeasurable shame, Enjolras is unable to identify. Courfeyrac looked desperate in death, eyes wide and hand outstretched, still reaching, yet will never succeed. Combeferre, the target of Courfeyrac’s outstretched hand lay on his back, eyes facing the heavens, yet unseeing.

The door opened.

-

Grantaire was a living paradox. Scorn the revolution, yet love its leader.

Sometimes soulmates didn’t work out. Death being the primary reason, but sometimes two people who were meant to be never met, or never clicked. It wasn’t rare, yet it wasn’t common. Grantaire often wondered if that was the reason why his skin was unmarked, maybe in a previous life he had found his soulmate, yet they didn’t connect. He could have been Icarus, and his soulmate the sun, a love destined to destroy, never to work.

These thoughts he saved until the dark hours of night, when his only companion was his bottle and his only hope was elsewhere.

Falling for the sun was a mistake he may have made in a past life, so why had he done it again?

-

Enjolras was strong as ever in his last moments, and answered the soldiers’ questions with the air of a man unafraid and powerful, despite wielding nothing but a flag. He looked his executioner in the eyes, and awaited the sound of his death.

“Long live the Republic! I’m with them. Long live the Republic!”

Grantaire had risen.

Enjolras could do nothing but stare at the man who had so often disagreed with him. Their arguments over the years were epic and fierce, their quiet moments of friendship rare yet memorable. The spirit of revolution burned in his eyes and the passion of a fighter burned in his soul.

“You might as well kill two birds with the one stone.”

Grantaire then turned to Enjolras, his opposite in every sense of the word. The two sides of the one coin finally uniting. The embodiment of Paris rising to the embodiment of Revolution. 

“Do you permit it?”

Enjolras could only stare. His wrist seemed to burn and his soul seemed to float. Words would not form in his mind and none could reach his mouth. Instead he took Grantaire’s hand, hoping that the intimate gesture would put across all which he wanted to say.

He smiled, at peace with his life and with his death.

-

Grantaire felt a hand slip into his own, reassuring and foreign yet terrifying and right. The Marble Lover of Liberty stood beside him, and together they would travel onwards.

It was strange, Grantaire thought, that his wrist would burn now, of all moments. His bare wrist devoid of a soul mark seemed to pulse as Enjolras intertwined their fingers.

“Of course,”, he thought, calm in his last seconds. A soulmate is identified by the phrase which impacts your life the most. Quite fitting that his soul mark is not something so simple as words.

A cynic and a believer side by side, soulmates to the last.

The gunshots rang out.


End file.
